


Bound to Each Other

by dragon_with_a_teacup



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Blood and Injury, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emerhy, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Well it is now, is that their ship name?, overprotective boyfriends, post-Conjuring of Light, spoilers for Conjuring of Light, this series needs more fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 03:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17859509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_with_a_teacup/pseuds/dragon_with_a_teacup
Summary: Eventually, Alucard relented. But only to the night market, and only for an hour. If Rhy was not upon the palace steps by sunset, Alucard would head out and drag him back. By the ear. Despite thinking the night market would hardly be as exciting before actual night, Rhy had known better than to protest.So that was how Rhy Maresh ended up wandering through the night market, pretending he wasn’t fully aware Alucard Emery had stalked him the entire way.





	Bound to Each Other

Some days, Rhy Maresh wished he weren’t king.

Wouldn’t it be easier, he mused to himself as he made his way into the crowd, if he were just another commoner? He wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with guards and running the government and being so damn proper all the time.

Then again… if he were just another commoner, would he have a brother like Kell? Would he have Alucard?

Likely not, so he’d best stop complaining. Some things were worth it.

Rhy glanced to either side, knowing his magician was nearby, somewhere in the crowd. Not so far away he couldn’t make it to Rhy in an instant, but not so close he was smothering the king.

Rhy had so nearly convinced Alucard to let him leave the palace on his own, just this once. After all, Rhy had argued, it wasn’t as if he could be killed. Nothing could happen.

He could be kidnapped, Alucard had pointed out. Or poisoned. Or dragged off and tortured. Or all of the above. There were plenty of ways he could get into trouble that didn’t involve mortal injuries. Most of them would probably be Rhy’s own doing, but still. Alucard’s role was to prevent him from exerting his idiot reflexes.

Alucard’s words, not Rhy’s.

Rhy had scoffed. Sounds like something Kell would say, he had countered. He’d then watched—with no small degree of amusement—the internal struggle that had passed behind Alucard’s eyes. The former privateer did so hate being compared to Kell.

Eventually, Alucard had relented. But only to the night market, and only for an hour. If Rhy was not upon the palace steps by sunset, Alucard would head out and drag him back. By the ear. Despite thinking the night market would hardly be as exciting before actual _night_ , Rhy had known better than to protest.

So that was how Rhy Maresh, sovereign ruler of Arnes, ended up wandering through the night market, pretending he wasn’t fully aware Alucard Emery had stalked him the entire way.

He caught a glimpse then of Alucard’s cloak, the distinctive red and gold of the royal guards. He didn’t always wear the uniform—only when he was on official duty for the throne (or, as was probably the case at the moment, masquerading as a guard enjoying an evening off). Otherwise, Rhy preferred him in colors that were more flattering to Alucard’s eye color and silvery veins. When he allowed his lover to wear clothes at all, that was.

Rhy shook himself out of his distracted thoughts when he nearly walked into the side of a tent. Hoping Alucard hadn’t seen that, he straightened his spine and continued on. The night market, recovered from the chaos Osaron had wrecked upon it the previous year, thrived with a near-cacophony of chatter, bustle, and lively _life_. Many Arnesians were still wary of nighttime, thanks to Osaron, so Rhy supposed the night market had evolved into a twilight market.

All around, the merchants hawked wares from all over Arnes, as well as many from Faro. Some Veskans dotted the crowd as well, though some of Rhy’s citizens cast them wary looks. He wished they wouldn’t; it wasn’t the merchants’ fault Cora and Col had killed the queen and attempted to start a war. So he paused at the nearest man’s stall and purchased a warm drink, a native Veskan recipe Rhy hadn’t tasted in years, since he’d traveled there with his parents as a boy.

He gave the merchant a grateful nod. The man nodded back, and Rhy moved on, rather relieved there had been no glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Wearing a simple tunic and trousers, no jewelry, no crown, he felt almost invisible. Normal.

Rhy continued to walk through the crowd, sipping his drink and reveling in his simple anonymity and the chance to observe his subjects unnoticed. They seemed happier. Months of healing, recovery, making sense of what had happened appeared to have done good. Osaron’s scourge at last seemed to be a fading memory, no longer lurking over shoulders. No longer—or at least not as much—haunting dreams.

The comforting ruby light of the Isle probably helped matters.

Rhy was approaching the edge of the market now, where the river’s light cast a more intense glow. As if pulled by an unseen force, Rhy moved closer to its bank. And even as he gazed down upon it, the memory of what it had looked like black ink flickered just on the other side of his vision. Like the spots that appear from staring at the sun, the poisonous stain that had infected the Isle darted before Rhy each time he blinked.

Just there, in the air next to the Maresh palace, was where Osaron’s palace had floated. Where Rhy had been imprisoned, ice shards driven through him. He still remembered the pain, the cold, and the sound of Kell’s screams.

 _It’s over_ , he reminded himself, even as his skin tingled with sense memory. _Your city is safe_.

“It’s nearly sunset,” a voice behind him said.

Rhy didn’t turn as Alucard came up beside him. However, the man’s presence acted as a balm on Rhy’s faintly rattled nerves.

“Given up on sneaking about, have you?” Rhy asked. His lips twitched.

“You knew I was there the whole time.”

Rhy raised an eyebrow. “Well, I was going to pretend I didn’t, for the sake of your ego. But if you’ve given up on keeping up the pretense…” Rhy turned to look at him, his smile widening, “I suppose now I can tell you that you really ought to work on your stealth.” Or maybe he just knew Alucard too well, he mused to himself.

Alucard scowled. If not for the flush appearing on his cheeks, that expression would have given Kell a run for his money in the frowning department. His surly countenance aside, Rhy found the sunset-enhanced light of the Isle quite flattering on Alucard’s hair. It seemed to be woven with gold.

“Why did you want to do this, anyway?” Alucard asked, obviously to shift the conversation away from his tailing.

Rhy shrugged. He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed across the water. “I needed a moment…” He paused, weighing his words, “to remember what it feels like not to be a king.”

Alucard didn’t reply; he probably didn’t need more information. Rhy let him see, more than anyone save perhaps Tieren, the pressures of Rhy’s life. Even having been raised with the expectation of becoming king, Rhy still required a relaxing evening now and then. More than once recently, Alucard had even suggested Rhy put off some letter or decision until another day. It had only been a year, Alucard had been saying, and Rhy did not need to solve every problem in Arnes in that time. He would run himself ragged if he weren’t careful, Alucard warned.

“Shall we go back to the palace?” was all Alucard asked after a long pause. His tone belied the request of his words: if Rhy needed more time out here, Alucard would understand.

But Rhy just smiled. “Yes, let’s.”

Before they proceeded from the riverbank to the market again, Rhy reached down and squeezed Alucard’s hand, just for a moment. Alucard squeezed back before melting away into the crowd once more. An invisible but tangible guardian.

Rhy wove through the people under the shifting, darkening sky. Alucard was probably right; it was probably best that Rhy return to the palace before dark, and before the other guards grew concerned. They were still overprotective after Osaron’s attack, no matter how many times Rhy reminded them he was _fine_ , that he had plenty of guards, that he was not a foolish youth.

Well, not all the time.

Besides, he had Alucard apparently affixed to his side. Not to mention Kell’s spell literally affixed to his soul.

As the sunset painted the sky, Rhy’s spirits lifted, lighter than they’d been in ages. Missing his brother and stressing from his new role as ruler had apparently taken a toll. He’d have to pester Alucard to accompany him out of the palace in his commoner garb more often.

Rhy passed the Veskan merchant with the drinks and gave him a wave.

As he moved on, though, a cart of fruits upended with a deafening crash, sending people scattering. A pair of angry voices—likely the cart owner and the culprit of the accident—rose above the rest. Rhy was jostled backward behind a tent. As he caught his balance against the canvas, he looked up to find the arguing men standing nose to nose.

Under the now-broken cart, a figure with long hair struggled. The unfortunate youth had apparently been standing next to the cart and gotten trapped under it. Several bystanders rushed forward to help her out, and the fruit-stained girl rose, anger and embarrassment on her face. Her wrist bent at a strange angle as she cradled it to her chest. She joined her companion facing the perpetrator, whose eyes were wide with anger.

Before anyone could move to stop him, he lifted his hands and conjured a wave of water. He sent it crashing down onto the cart, where it solidified into ice. The fruit merchant and the girl were both caught too, their feet held fast.

“Show you what happens when you work with a Veskan!” the man growled.

By this point, Rhy had seen enough. He squared his shoulders and strode forward. However, he’d only made it halfway there before the girl’s hands moved.

A blast of air sent everyone in the vicinity reeling away, and even blew a few tents open. The water mage retaliated, though it seemed to Rhy the girl was only protecting herself and her companion.

The mage’s hands lifted again, and Rhy rushed forward.

“Stop—!”

Then, several things happened in rapid succession.

Bolts of ice swirled into being in front of the water mage. He grinned.

And the memory of those chilling shards slamming through his body made Rhy stop dead on the spot.

And a voice cried out.

“Rhy!”

A flash of red and gold. A flare of fire. Screams.

Rhy watched, helpless, as Alucard threw himself in front of Rhy, sending a blast of flame toward the other magician. The man ducked, then, seeming to recognize Alucard, turned and fled.

“After him!” Rhy called. His voice, stern and powerful from years of listening to his father, rang out across the market. He turned to Alucard—who hadn’t moved from in front of Rhy after casting his fire spell—intending to assure his lover that he was unharmed.

Instead, he gasped.

Alucard swayed on his feet, staring down at his torso. A splinter of ice protruded from his stomach, buried deep. Red seeped out onto his shirt, and pink droplets of melting ice and blood dribbled to the ground.

“No!” Rhy cried.

He surged forward, not caring that the gathered commoners were watching, not caring that the water mage might be escaping, not caring that he was exposed and had no other guards.

“Alucard.” He grasped at the man, whose knees buckled, and lowered him to the ground. Rhy cradled his head in his lap. “You’re all right, hold on.”

Alucard coughed. The sound met Rhy’s ears like a physical blow, and he let out a noise like a sob in response.

“Luc, look at me, please,” he breathed.

But Alucard’s eyes were closed, and Rhy’s heart wanted to stop.

“Sire?”

Rhy’s head whipped up to seek the owner of the new, unfamiliar voice. The Veskan merchant stood there, the water mage semi-conscious in his grasp. In Rhy’s panic, he’d apparently missed the man’s capture. The girl and the merchant were staggering out of the melting ice, which had been blasted with Alucard’s spell too.

“Thank you,” Rhy managed in the Veskan tongue. “Will you bring him to the palace? My guards can take him from there. Just tell them I sent you.”

“Of course, sire,” he nodded.

A pair of merchants approached, their motions rather reverent. “Your Majesty,” the first said, “can we assist you?”

As Rhy glanced around, he saw concern and care on the faces of those nearby. Some were watching with shock and fear on their faces, but those looks were directed more at the unconscious magician than at Rhy. No, the looks laid upon Rhy were gentler. He wondered if some of those gathered were some whom he’d tended to during the sleeping spell. He wondered if they had woken to find blankets draped over themselves, and to the legend of Rhy’s actions already spreading throughout Arnes.

Whatever the case, at least this evening, Rhy was safe among his commoners.

He dropped his gaze to Alucard as the merchants helped pick him up. He was pale, still bleeding, and unmoving.

“Hold on, Luc.”

* * *

When Alucard woke, he knew from the flickering light pressing upon his eyelids that he had been moved. When he tried to shift his body, he knew his injury had either been tended to using magic or he had been asleep a long time.

When he opened his eyes, he knew he was in trouble.

Rhy stood at his bedside, tension emanating off him in palpable waves. His hair stuck out in all directions under his crown, his eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Gone was the lordly facade—right now, he was just Rhy.

His Rhy.

“Tieren said you’d wake soon. About time too. It’s been two full days,” was all he said. His voice sounded as hoarse as Alucard’s throat felt.

“Well, I’m awake,” Alucard said. He coughed and glanced around the room. Clearly Master Tieren’s sanctuary, judging from the sparse space, the stone walls, and the candle that served as the only source of light. “Is there water?”

Rhy handed him a cup, but still glared. The silence between them lasted mere moments before Rhy exploded.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded, voice loud but breaking. Torn between a kingly demand for answers and a lover’s desperate wondering.

“Do what, my job?” Alucard asked.

“You know that wouldn’t have killed me,” Rhy snapped as if Alucard hadn’t spoken. “I’ve taken much worse than that. So why the hell did you have to play the hero?”

“Well, for one thing,” Alucard said dryly, “had I allowed you to get stabbed, there’s every chance your brother would have rushed back here. And it’s in my best interests, quite frankly, to have him out of the city.”

“Don’t joke about this, Alucard,” Rhy said. He started pacing, movements frenetic. “You could have died. You’re lucky we got you to Tieren as soon as we did. He said a few minutes more, or had you been stabbed an inch to the right, you would have…” Rhy’s voice caught, and he swallowed. “You’re a fool.”

“I was protecting you.”

“Well, don’t!”

Alucard stared, shocked. Did Rhy mean he didn’t want Alucard as his guardian anymore?

“I…” Rhy swallowed again, eyes on the floor. “I didn’t mean… what that sounded like.”

“What did you mean then?” Alucard made to sit up, but winced. Underneath the healing spells and bandages, his injury still protested the movement. He fell back onto the pillow with a soft groan. It would be a few days, probably, before he was back to normal.

Rhy watched without a word. His eyes shone, agony written across his handsome face in the creases of his brow and the twist of his lips. Once Alucard had stilled on the bed again, Rhy stepped closer. His fingers brushed Alucard’s but didn’t hold.

“Don’t protect me,” Rhy whispered then, “at the expense of your own safety.”

“I am your guard,” Alucard said. “I am your magician. My job is to keep you safe, no matter what the cost to myself. You know that.”

“No, I don’t know that.” Rhy shook his head. Alucard felt a twinge within him that had nothing to do with his wound and everything to do with Rhy’s damn stubbornness. “We’ve discussed this.”

That gave Alucard pause. “Have we?”

“Of course,” Rhy insisted. “When you came to speak to me in the Rose Hall.”

Alucard remembered; of course he did. The _vestra_ and _ostra_ gathered around the throne, Kell at Rhy’s side, and the _liran_ in Alucard’s hands. The new crown atop Rhy’s curls, the authority in his voice, and the almost-smile on his lips as he’d declared his decision.

_“I require an ally. A proven friend. A powerful magician. I require you here in London, Master Emery. With me.”_

Alucard doubted he would ever forget that day.

“Luc.” Now, Rhy’s soft, wrecked voice mangled Alucard’s insides. The king dropped onto the bed, clutching at Alucard’s shoulders as if he were a lifeline. He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “I told you then: I will _not_ suffer losing you. I already have once, and I do _not_ want to do so again.”

Alucard reached up and wiped away the tears that sparkled on Rhy’s cheeks in the candlelight. “I am sorry,” he whispered.

He hated that he could still cause Rhy such pain, after all this time. All he had ever wanted was to care for this man, not break his heart. But instead… he had wasted three years at sea, three years longing, three years he could have— _should_ have—spent loving Rhy.

Alucard would never get those three years back. And he could never pay for them enough.

When he’d accepted this role as magician and guardian a year ago, he’d made a vow. Silent, private, but irrevocable: spare Rhy from suffering.

After all, Rhy had been through so much in recent years. The evidence was written all over him, in iridescent spells and sloping shoulders and letters carved on his forearm. If Alucard could do something to keep him safe, what did it matter what happened to himself?

Apparently, it did matter.

“Luc,” Rhy said again, imploring. “Don’t you understand? Your pain is my pain. There may not be magic binding us, but…”

“I know,” Alucard whispered. And he did. He could see now, the error he had made when making his vow. But then, was it such a surprise that he had underestimated Rhy’s affections for him, had underestimated _Rhy_? The king was no magician, but there was a spell upon Alucard nonetheless. “I know now, and I’m sorry.”

“You must be more careful,” Rhy begged.

“I will,” Alucard kissed Rhy’s dampened cheeks. “But honestly, you’re worrying needlessly. I’m the winner of the Essen Tasch. That man just got in a lucky shot.”

Rhy let out a startled, watery laugh, which reassured Alucard. He stroked his fingers through Rhy’s hair, avoiding the crown (though it would not be the first time he knocked it off). “I’m all right, Rhy.”

“You’d better be.” Rhy leveled a stern glare at him.

“What happened to that man anyway?”

“In a cell.” Rhy sat up and waved a dismissive hand. “I haven’t decided what to do with him yet. I wanted to make sure you were…” He cleared his throat. “Well.”

“I don’t think he meant to do this to me,” Alucard said.

“Regardless,” Rhy’s voice had gone hard, “he attacked those two. And apparently over their dealings with some Veskan traders. I can’t abide that behavior. We can’t have magicians losing control like that and causing such damage.”

“It’ll be all right,” Alucard said. “Tensions are still strained between Arnes and Vesk right now, but… you’re doing much to alleviate that. That magician was just one man.”

“I need to do something about him, though,” Rhy said.

“Rhy,” Alucard insisted, “when is the last time you slept?”

The king pressed his lips together, obviously not wanting to answer that question. After a moment’s hesitation, he muttered, “Two days ago.”

Alucard sighed. “Then that decision can wait until the morning. Rest now.”

Rhy nodded and rose, but Alucard shot out his hand and grabbed Rhy’s wrist. “Wait. Where do you think you’re going? Stay.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you giving me an order?”

Innocent as could be, Alucard grinned. “Of course not, Your Majesty.”

Rhy smiled. As he climbed into bed and splayed his hand across Alucard’s chest, he sighed. “Don’t call me that.”

“But you’re my king.”

Rhy shook his head, his curls ticking Alucard’s chin. “Not a king right now.” He looked up and met Alucard’s gaze. “Right now I’m just yours.”

Alucard smiled as he wrapped his arm around Rhy’s shoulders, soaking in his warmth. “Goodnight, Rhy.”

“Goodnight, Luc.”


End file.
